Chapter 57
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Translator: penny
Chapter: 57
Chapter Title: This or That
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Not money, but admission of innocence.
His pride would suffer, but his vaults would remain intact.
But admitting innocence meant confessing before all these assembled nobles that he was a liar.
Would that old man's ego allow it?
Or before that—could that old man really be that incompetent?
Whatever anyone said, he was still a man capable of reviving a family on the brink of ruin by establishing a merchant guild...
Was I underestimating him too much?
"Would that truly suffice?"
In that instant, I was certain.
An incompetent old fool.
Even establishing the guild must have been nothing more than a knack for making money.
In truth, even that was unlikely.
He probably just had a competent advisor—or maybe it was sheer luck.
Everyone present understood the implication of that question.
'I admit the false accusation.'
"You're admitting it?"
"That easily?"
Count Helmut finally realized what he'd said and gnashed his teeth.
Of course, I didn't give him a moment to catch his breath or think.
"But you must do it properly."
"What?"
"For Sir Heinrich's honor—explain exactly how you framed him. Whose scheme it was. Tell us everything."
Helmut's face hardened.
He had reacted to the phrase "whose scheme."
Silence stretched on.
"If you'd rather not, then pay up."
"Fine. Name your price."
"Twenty thousand gold coins."
Murmurs erupted like an explosion.
"Twenty thousand?"
"Is he mad?"
"Twenty thousand gold for one Georg!"
"Even so, that's..."
It was enough money to buy an entire respectable county outright.
Helmut's face flushed red then drained to purple.
"In that case, do as I proposed earlier. I won't take a single coin."
Silence.
"If you're worried, I'll swear it before Her Highness the Princess. That regarding any name mentioned here today, I won't seek the slightest retaliation."
The princess's head tilted ever so slightly.
"If you need witnesses, surely everyone here will serve as such."
Nods rippled through the nobles.
Helmut's lips quivered.
Pay twenty thousand gold, or talk for free. And I'd even sworn no revenge.
Gazes shifted. Eyes that had been fixed on me slowly drifted aside.
That old man had never once truly gauged me.
How many seconds passed? Walter von Krushtein's head gave the faintest nod.
That sealed it.
"Very well. I'll talk. The plan was devised by my advisor, Schmidt."
Movement stirred from one corner of the banquet hall.
A middle-aged man, dressed in garments bearing the Mueller crest. All color drained from his face.
Helmut didn't stop.
Names followed. One. Two. Three.
I didn't know the faces. But identifying them was simple. Each time a name was called, heads turned somewhere in the hall. Just follow the stares.
Two men. One woman.
They paled in sequence.
Among those wearing the Mueller crest, uneasy glances darted back and forth.
Anxious eyes. Who's next? They were all calculating.
Meanwhile, Sir Heinrich and Sir Wolfram stood with arms crossed, watching the spectacle.
Twenty thousand gold.
He would have gotten off cheaper that way.
Ernst's face came into view. This was his engagement celebration. Yet his grandfather was publicly capitulating, rattling off the names of his collaborators without hesitation.
His fists were clenched. His jaw set. His gaze fixed on the floor.
Satisfying.
"Spent so long playing merchant, he's more trader than noble now."
A voice drifted from somewhere. Not even lowered.
"Even a house older than the Hardenbergs falls like this."
The reply carried the same intent. Loud enough for all to hear.
Helmut's lips trembled violently.
Duke Walter turned on his heel.
"Well then, enjoy the rest of the party."
I followed my father out of the banquet hall.
Sir Heinrich led the way. Sir Wolfram brought up the rear.
Lize and I walked between them.
Murmurs rose from behind. The party carried on.
We boarded the carriage.
As the wheels began to roll, the lights of the venue faded into the distance beyond the window.
Lize said nothing. Her head bowed, she stared only at her hands in her lap. Her fingers gripped and released the hem of her dress, over and over.
We arrived at the lodging.
Only after the door clicked shut did Lize finally speak.
"I don't get it."
"What?"
"That man. Count Mueller. How could he? Those people are all his subordinates. They worked for him. But he just... outs them like that?"
"Yeah."
"Is he a moron? A real fucking idiot?"
The curse burst out. It wasn't like Lize at all.
"Lize."
"Yes?"
"You're smart. That's why you can't understand."
"Understand what?"
"That there are people in this world who are that stupid."
It was a trap that ensnared the overly intelligent.
This world followed a bell curve, after all.
If there were people at one extreme like Lize, the balance demanded opposites like Helmut at the other end.
"But he's a count. Second-in-command of the North. The man who built the Mueller guild."
"That man's lived his whole life like that. Even during the rebellion twenty years ago. There were three allies who drew swords together. When it failed, he sold them all out."
"All of them?"
"One of the allies was his own brother-in-law. His sister's husband. He sold him too. The brother-in-law was beheaded, and his sister went mad and died."
"But he survived?"
"Yeah. Demoted from duke to count, but he kept his head."
I paused for a moment.
"That's success to him. When crisis strikes, sell out others. Survive. That's the formula etched in his brain."
"So today too?"
"Yeah. He probably thinks he made the 'wise choice' again. By his lights. Traded four subordinates to save one Georg."
"What about those people? The ones named today."
"Who knows. We'll see."
My father and I had promised their safety.
Before the princess. With dozens of nobles watching.
A verbal promise, but one that couldn't be ignored.
They wouldn't be executed for that crime.
But only for 'that crime.'
Walter von Krushtein. If that man wanted, he could unearth other charges.
Embezzlement. Neglect of duty. Bribery. Who doesn't have any dirt when you shake them down?
Especially people like them, rolling in filth.
Even if they escaped execution, what happened in that banquet hall tonight would spread across the entire North by tomorrow.
Their careers were finished.
"If they have a clever son or daughter, maybe the house can rebuild in the next generation."
"Assuming no clan execution or total ruin beyond recovery."
"Yeah."
"You're really smart, young master."
"No. You are. You're just so smart you can't fathom how idiotic others can be."
Lize fell silent.
"I'll lend you a few books. Read them, and people like Helmut will start making sense."
"I don't want to understand."
"You have to understand them to use them."
A brief silence.
"Lend them to me."
The next morning.
"Young master. Young master."
Someone shook my shoulder. Lize.
"Yeah."
"A summons from the ducal residence."
I opened my eyes. The light filtering through the window was still dim.
"I went yesterday, and now again?"
"It's urgent."
I sat up.
Yesterday, I'd gone of my own accord. Today, it was a formal summons.
"What's it about?"
"No idea. But the atmosphere's off."
I changed quickly. Splashed water on my face roughly. Combed my hair haphazardly. I could tidy up properly during the carriage ride to the residence.
We boarded the carriage.
The wheels began to turn.
Lize sat opposite me.
"Tell me more."
"An imperial messenger arrived."
"From the capital?"
"Last night."
After the banquet ended.
"Any word on the purpose?"
"That's the strange part. No one knows."
Lize shook her head.
"Even the duke wasn't summoned."
Father didn't know either?
I gazed out the window. Morning mist cloaked the territory.
A matter father didn't know about. An imperial messenger who came directly but didn't summon the duke.
What was this?
The carriage halted.
The ducal residence's main gate. A servant opened the door. Nothing seemed amiss.
But the looks were different. Every servant we passed averted their eyes.
I was led to the reception hall.
The door opened.
The first thing that caught my eye was the unfamiliar man.
Imperial crest on his uniform. Cold expression. A scroll clutched in his hand.
The imperial messenger.
My father stood beside him.
His face was grim.
And Ernst.
My brother lurked in one corner. His expression unreadable.
"Adrian von Krushtein."
The messenger spoke. A formal tone.
"I deliver His Imperial Majesty's decree. Pursuant to Imperial Law, Article 1147, Paragraph 3: Minors may not hold the position of legion commander. Accordingly, Adrian von Krushtein is forthwith dismissed from the command of the 7th Legion on the Northern Front."
Murmurs rippled through the retainers gathered in the reception hall.
"What?"
"The legion command?"
"Out of nowhere?"
Ernst's lip curled faintly upward.
The messenger folded the scroll.
Silence descended.
No soldiers.
Now, I had no soldiers.
It wasn't funny. Or rather, it was so absurd that laughter wouldn't come.
Minors cannot serve as legion commanders. Imperial Law, Article 1147, Paragraph 3.
I hadn't even known such a law existed. I wasn't a judge; I didn't memorize every statute.
Digging up a clause that hadn't been enforced in two hundred years, and now?
Who unearthed it? Ernst? Mueller? Someone at court?
Or perhaps... the family of the judge I killed. Or that one judge I spared?
I clenched my fist. Nails bit into my palm.
All because of a single sheet of paper.
I felt Ernst's gaze upon me.
Go ahead and gloat. Today belongs to you.
That was when it happened.
The messenger moved.
He drew something from his breast pocket. Another scroll.
The reception hall fell utterly quiet.
This one was different. Gold leaf edging the borders. The seal bore the double-headed eagle. Red wax gleamed under the candlelight.
My heart stuttered.
That was the emperor's personal missive.
Not an administrative document. The highest form of correspondence in the Empire, penned by the emperor himself.
Why was that here?
The messenger raised the scroll high.
The gold leaf caught the light and flashed.
The sound of the seal breaking echoed through the reception hall.